


Spiteful Serenade

by MilfShakes



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, drunk fic writing, i am absolutely shitfaced i will spellcheck this when i'm sober, i can't feel my hands, tldr i had way too much to drink and decided to write grumm for a change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 20:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20088127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilfShakes/pseuds/MilfShakes
Summary: Grimm and Brumm's love of music brings them closer together





	1. The Beginning

He was charming, so charming.

Nymm found himself lost in those ruby-red eyes.

He was a simple bug, a traveling musician. The pay was shit but Nymm found solace in filling the cold, gray air around him with the comforting sound of his accordion. 

Most bugs just passed by, some tossed a coin or two into his hat, but this tall, handsome bug was_ different. _

The stranger sat at a nearby bench to watch Nymm’s performance, and even gave a standing ovation once the song finished. 

A smile played across his crooked fangs as he approached the short accordion player. He placed a warm hand on Nymm’s shoulder and spoke.

“My friend, I can’t help but be in awe of your talent. My name is Grimm, leader of the Grimm Troupe. I’ve been looking for a musician you see, and I think you’d be the _ perfect _ fit.”

He offered the shorter bug a mask, and the promise of freedom, the promise of safety, the promise of _ family. _

Grimm’s beautiful, mask-like face entranced the short musician-

How could he say no?

\--------------

Brumm awoke with only a vague idea of his past, and a very clear vision of his future-

The Ritual, the Troupe, the Heart, it was all laid out before him, the comforting promise of his purpose.

His role in the Troupe started off so- professional. 

Brumm was tasked with serenading the audience, or using his musical prowess to attract curious customers. And it worked, quite well in fact- so many weary bugs were entranced by Brumm’s comforting melody-

Including the Troupe Master himself. 

Grimm was never one for subtlety.

A playful glance here, an “accidental” hand touch there, even in this new form, Brumm wasn’t exactly oblivious. Even with only limited memories of his past life, Brumm still remembered his desire for companionship. All those lonely years left an ache in Brumm’s chest, and he was all too happy to accept his Master’s affection.

When Grimm asked him for a more “private performance” he all but leapt at the opportunity.

The Troupe Master invited Brumm to his quarters, offering him a glass of wine before he started the song- which Brumm politely refused, he wanted a clear head to perform for his beloved Master. 

Grimm sat on his ornate sofa, one leg lazily hanging over the side as he watched Brumm perform. 

The sound of Brumm’s music filled the air, different from before, he wrote the song specifically for his beloved Master, and Grimm took notice.

Grimm bit his lip as the music swelled, his hooded scarlet gaze turned Brumm’s stomach into knots. 

The Troupe Master watched patiently as Brumm finished his song. The musician took a bow, and almost looked like he was ready to leave- but the Troupe Master had other plans.

Grimm beckoned to him with a curled finger, inviting Brumm to come closer. 

The light of Grimm’s scarlet eyes pulled Brumm forward, and before he knew it he was sitting in his Master’s lap.

The Troupe Master caressed Brumm’s firm biceps, then kneaded his claws into the luxurious fur around his neck. Brumm’s heart practically stopped when he felt Grimm’s finger lift his mask, just enough to place a gentle kiss against his willing mouth. 

That “private performance” was the first of many, Brumm was the talk of the Troupe, some of the Grimmkin started calling him Grimm’s “plaything”. 

But Brumm knew that was all nonsense, he felt no shame in how often he found himself in his Master’s bedroom. 

After the long and isolated life Brumm lived, didnt’ he deserve the absolute bliss that Grimm provided for him?

The answer was yes, of course-

As the Grimm Troupe set off on a new adventure, Brumm sat by his Master’s side-

Looking at the road ahead of him with absolute confidence that nothing in this vast and wonderful world could fulfill him more than the companionship Grimm provided.


	2. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being part of the Troupe for centuries, Brumm starts to notice little details he had previously overlooked.

Years went by, then decades, then centuries.

Brumm began to notice the little things, the small, barely noticeable details of Grimm’s face.

The little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the subtle twinge of melancholy in his voice- 

The unnatural, irresistible allure of his eyes.

Brumm felt so happy, so satisfied, for  _ so _ long.

He truly believed the pure, fulfilling bliss of he and his Master’s relationship would never turn sour.

But- is a song without an end really a song?

Over the years, the little inconsistencies in Grimm’s behavior only magnified. He always insisted that the Ritual was for the best, that it would help the fallen Kingdoms grow anew- but the Troupe never revisited a Kingdom once the Ritual was completed. Grimm simply insisted, with his sweet, intoxicating words- that everything was fine.

And for a time, Brumm simply believed him.

It’s not like the musician knew any better, after all, the Nightmare’s Heart had all but wiped his memory- and left him so vulnerable, so_ easy_ to manipulate. 

By the time Brumm realized something was off, it was far too late.

Brumm only requested some time to himself, it wasn't unusual for Troupe members to go off alone sometimes. It would’ve been a harmless request, in any other situation. All he did was take a long walk, away from the Troupe’s tents, he struck up a friendly conversation with a stranger. He mentioned that he had been working for the Troupe for such a long time, it seemed almost endless, he didn’t think anything of it at the time.

But the Troupe Master did.

As soon as Brumm returned home, he was met with cold confrontation.

Grimm sat expectantly on Brumm’s bed, his brow furrowed.

“Do you feel the Ritual is an obligation, am I starting to lose your loyalty, dear friend?” He asked, his scarlet eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. 

Brumm truly didn’t know how to respond, he’d never really thought about it. He politely said no, he never wanted his beloved to doubt his dedication. 

But every day after that, the seeds of doubt grew in his chest. The encounter left Brumm with an uncomfortable truth- that he never truly had a moment of privacy from his Master’s scarlet gaze.

Brumm wore a mask that he himself could never remove, he fulfilled a role that he could never question, an endless song, an endless cycle- and the constant surveillance of his master.-

How did it take him so long to realize? This wasn’t freedom, this wasn’t family-

This relationship was nothing more than chains around his wrists.

But how then, could Brumm hope to be free?

He couldn’t shake the loyalty, the burning obligation that festered within him. No matter how hard he tried, he still felt the pull of the Scarlet Heart’s influence. Brumm tried so desperately to remember his real name, to remember the past he left behind for the Troupe. 

And after hundreds of years, in a long dead Kingdom called Hallownest, Brumm finally found a place he could speak freely.

The short musician fled to the bowels of the ancient civilization, deep below the ground, in the heart of Deepnest, where only the truly desperate dared to travel. 

Only there did Brumm finally have a moment of privacy.

The musician stood in the abandoned village, relishing in the isolation that Deepnest provided.

He relaxed completely, in a residence whose inhabitants were long dead, in that moment he knew he was free of his Master’s scarlet gaze- and at first he wasn’t sure what to do with this window of opportunity, at least not until a certain short Knight walked through the door.

Brumm could barely contain himself, he knew this creature had started the Ritual but, he could sense that the Knight served no Master. It took everything within him to fight against his loyalty to the Troupe, but nonetheless, the words escaped his cursed mouth:

“Perhaps together, we can banish that livid flame and let this dead Kingdom rest in peace. If you wish to silence the endless song... Mrmm, meet me where it began...”

Although Brumm’s loyalty to the Troupe tugged at his heartstrings, he hoped beyond all hopes that the small creature would heed his words.

Brumm waited patiently, where the dark Ritual began.

After a few weeks he had almost lost all hope-

But, just as Brumm began to fall into despair- the silhouette of the short Knight came into his view.

The musician’s chest swelled with vigor, he plunged his staff into the anchor that brought the Dread Troupe to this dead land-

And the small Knight ended it all with a strike of their nail.

\----------

Nymm stood in Dirtmouth’s center, unsure of how or why he ended up in this quiet little town, but happiness welled up in his chest nonetheless.

Nymm didn’t recognize the short Knight when they wandered into the town’s center, but he felt that he should give them a gift, something to commemorate their new friendship.

A charm, the carefree melody, it was all he had to give at the moment.

The Knight remained silent when they took the gift from Nymm’s hands, but he sensed their gratitude.

Nymm watched the short Knight head over to the well in the distance, they paused for a moment, to glace back in his direction.

Nymm didn’t fully understand why-but- that look filled him with a new sense of purpose. A drive to make the most of his life, even if he was alone, at least Nymm was free, at least he could wander and serenade the sad, weary bugs that still inhabited this Kingdom.

For some reason, the knowledge that he could go and do as he pleased filled Nymm’s heart to the brim-

And he knew, in his heart and soul, that everything was going to be okay.


End file.
